Praise for To Love the Coming End

“With the emotional precision and eye of a poet, Dunic traverses the vast expanse of Asia, examining how people—and nature—wound each other, but how love is the specific balm that heals. Her travels allow us to see details—scarlet, a mynah bird, a fissure—through her eyes. Her inward eye allows us to feel the pain and pleasure of a singular love. Dunic weaves a wondrous, mysterious and magical web with a deft touch that is as light as it is tight.”

Marie Mutsuki Mockett

“Elegant and spare, Dunic’s elegiac writing touches on grief that is both personal and societal. She reminds us that no love is wasted.”

Sarah Yi-Mei Tsiang

To Love the Coming End is a psychological story of a writer who wanders vivid Singapore, haunted by memories of Japan and British Columbia, longing for relief and an unlikely reunion. To Love the Coming End is an extended poem of sensation, exquisitely rendered; of aloneness; of quiet catastrophe and dread.”

Kathleen Flenniken

tltce-canada

“Dunic has created a collection of tightly mapped poetic fault lines, topographies of loss and absence spanning immense yet intimate geologies, ecologies, astrologies, and geographies. She conjures ghosts and lizards, cultural icons, natural disasters, and urban eccentricities, all the time remaining unwaveringly focused on healing wounds and grief almost too profound to name. To Love the Coming End insists on an eternal unearthing of memory, a return to remembering, however fleeting.”

Sarah de Leeuw

“Leanne Dunic’s meditative collection To Love the Coming End embodies Yukio Mishima’s characterization of Japan–her writing is at once elegant and brutal. In these fervent poems of disparate landscapes are catastrophic feelings of sadness, loss, and alienation.”

Doretta Lau

“Leanne Dunic ventures out across the Pacific, primarily Singapore and Japan, in this book of smartly written, telling prose fragments. The pieces muse on place, presence, distance, the senses, the number 11, longing, loss, love – doing so in a way that each has its own weight and body, yet becomes part of a larger, cumulative whole. In this it movingly resembles musical composition with its structure, pace, expressive notes. Beautifully done.”

— Rick Simonson, Elliott Bay Book Company